


Fooled Around And Fell In Love

by smittenbritain



Series: Special Requests [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/smittenbritain
Summary: He hadn’t meant to fall for Jeremy. He’d been perfectly content to be Jeremy’s best friend, his partner in actual crime, the one who had followed him into the Fake AH Crew. It had been exciting to be hired based on his own merits as a hacker, but him and Jeremy had been a package deal from the start, and thankfully, Geoff had respected that without them even needing to ask.Or, maybe, Matt had just been obvious about his crush from the start, and Geoff had noticed.





	Fooled Around And Fell In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foreverindept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverindept/gifts).



> This fic is a special request for Foreverindept!
> 
> The title is from 'Fooled Around And Fell In Love' by Elvin Bishop.
> 
> If you'd like to specially request a fic, please check out my info [here](https://leftsmitteninbritain.tumblr.com/info), and contact me at [leftsmitteninbritain](https://leftsmitteninbritain.tumblr.com/)!

“Matthew Bragg! Just the man I wanted to see.”

Matt spun his chair around to face the door just as Geoff shut it behind himself. He looked carefully neutral, like he was in Boss Mode, but something was just a little bit off, something that Matt couldn’t put his finger on. 

Well, there was only one way to find out. 

“Sure. What d’you need?”

“I need you to go on a stakeout for me.” Geoff tucked his hands into his pockets, trying to appear casual. “I’m gonna send you out with Jeremy.”

Matt’s stomach did a weird twisting flop just at the sound of Jeremy’s name. He swallowed hard, and tried to play it cool at the thought of spending hours alone with his best friend and, as it so happened, his crush. 

“Yeah,” he said, “sure, I can do that. When, uh, when do you want us to go?”

“Tonight.” Geoff beamed at him - a little _too_ happily, Matt thought. “Thanks, Matt! I’ll let you know where when you and Jeremy are ready to go.”

And with that, Geoff swept out the door, and Matt was left to wallow in his misery.

He hadn’t _meant_ to fall for Jeremy. He’d been perfectly content to be Jeremy’s best friend, his partner in _actual_ crime, the one who had followed him into the Fake AH Crew. It had been exciting to be hired based on his own merits as a hacker, but him and Jeremy had been a package deal from the start, and thankfully, Geoff had respected that without them even needing to ask. 

Or, maybe, Matt had just been obvious about his crush from the start, and Geoff had noticed. 

Once the door was firmly closed, Matt dropped his head onto his desk with a solid thump and a groan.

* * *

Stakeouts were, predictably, boring. 

They were parked a nice distance from the entrance of a warehouse, loaded up with snacks and energy drinks. Night had fallen hours ago, and Matt and Jeremy were sat in the dim light of the car’s overhead lamp. A few empty packets were littered across the dashboard where they’d already been nibbling to pass the time. The battery on Matt’s DS had long since died and their phones were low, so they’d resorted to _I Spy_ , of all things.

“I spy…” Jeremy trailed off, chewing a piece of jerky thoughtfully. “I spy… something beginning with ‘S’.”

“Dude, c’mon, it’s not ‘star’ again, is it?”

“Nope! You know I don’t repeat answers.”

Matt frowned out of the window. Their view wasn’t much - mostly grey buildings, grey roads, and grey, shadowy cars - but there had to be _something_. 

“Street…?” He glanced over at Jeremy, and he saw him shaking his head - but somehow _encouragingly_ ? There was definitely something _hopeful_ in his expression. “Street…” Matt cast around, glancing back and forth across their limited landscape, until he landed on something. “Streetlamp?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy beamed at him. “Streetlamp!”

“ _Jeremy_ ,” Matt said, rolling his eyes.

“It stumped you!” 

He gave Matt’s arm a playful knock with his own, and he couldn’t help laughing. Jeremy’s smile was infectious, impossible to ignore, and Matt was definitely no exception. Giggles always brought a certain sparkle to Jeremy’s eyes, something that rung with a tone of childishness in the most delightful way. It always left Matt feeling giddy and bubbling with joy.

“Matt?”

Jeremy bumped his arm again. 

Matt shook himself. “Huh?”

“It’s your turn.” Jeremy frowned at him, in the way that meant he was playfully scrutinising him. “You looked like you drifted off a little there. You okay, man?”

God, Matt hoped the darkness covered up the blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I spy…”

He could still feel Jeremy looking at him as they continued to play and wait, and Matt tried to ignore it. He didn’t want to be so obvious to the very object of his affection; he liked Jeremy, both as a friend and as a potential romantic partner, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin the first of those two things if he couldn’t have the second.

Predictably, nothing happened that night - either on the stakeout or between them. They returned to the penthouse in the early hours of the morning, still laughing, weighed down with empty packets from all their snacking.

* * *

“Hey, Jeremy.”

Ryan’s voice echoed a little in the garage, bouncing off of the walls and interrupting the music Jeremy had on. Reluctantly, he wheeled himself out from underneath his car - the Rimmy Tim-mobile had needed a tune-up - and sat up to face Ryan. Even though he was just his usual shirt and jeans, Jeremy felt a little underdressed in his oily tank top and shorts.

He reached for a spare rag to wipe off his hands. “What’s up?”

Ryan offered him a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you’d swap jobs with Jack and I? We do your next stakeout if you take our spots tonight?”

Jeremy hesitated. He _did_ hate stakeouts.

“Sure,” he said, shrugging. 

Something… was off. Ryan looked a little awkward - too awkward. He was rocking on his heels and his hands were folded together behind his back, and he looked almost shifty with the way he wasn’t quite meeting Jeremy’s gaze. He was hiding something, and while Jeremy knew his Battle Buddy well enough to pick up on that even when Ryan was trying to be more subtle, he had no idea what it actually _was_.

Jeremy frowned. “What is it?”

“It’s some fancy party thing,” Ryan explained. “Just go there, pretend to be interested in art or something. Geoff wants to case the place, see if it’s worth anything.”

“Alright.” Reluctantly, Jeremy pulled himself to his feet; if he was going to dress up tonight, then he needed to start cleaning up fast, or he’d still smell of motor oil when he left. “Who’s going with me, if you and Jack are taking off?”

There was a pause before Ryan answered. “Matt.”

Jeremy’s heart missed a beat in his chest. Matt in a suit. _Fuck._

He offered Ryan a friendly smile. “Sure thing, sounds fun. What time do we need to be there?”

“Seven, sharp. Try to blend in and you should be good.” Ryan beamed at him. “Thanks, Jeremy.”

“Anytime,” Jeremy said, weakly, to Ryan’s retreating back.

* * *

It was a cool night in Los Santos - or, at least, it was on the outskirts of the city, at some new fancy gallery. The city’s richest and finest were already here, dressed up to the nines as they swept through the great double doors to peruse the art inside. Waiters wandered around with platters of champagne, and Jeremy eagerly took a couple when he passed, sipping his own before he passed the other to Matt.

Matt, who cleaned up _really_ fucking nice.

Jeremy was, admittedly, a fan of Matt’s more usual cosy look. He thought it was positively adorable to see him hanging out in clothes that were a little too baggy and a little too worn considering the kind of money they all had tucked away. It reminded Jeremy of old times, before they had joined the crew and were struggling to make rent together, when they would sit around with takeout and laugh over whatever was on TV.

Having said that, Matt in a suit was a sight to behold. He couldn’t help wondering if Geoff had taken him to his favourite tailor beforehand, just to make sure it fitted nicely; he thought about thanking Geoff later, but then realised it would have so completely revealed his crush, so he decided to bite his tongue.

Still, he could admire Matt now, and he could hope that he wasn’t too obvious about it.

“Thanks,” Matt said, grinning and clinking his champagne flute against Jeremy’s half full one. 

“No problem.” Jeremy took another gulp. The bubbles burned in his throat from how quickly he’d swallowed. “I guess we’d better head inside.”

Matt shrugged one shoulder lazily. “Probably.” He didn’t seem too concerned. If anything, his gaze seemed to keep straying back to Jeremy rather than the prizes inside the gallery. It seemed like Matt was having an internal debate, and sure enough, after a solid pause, he offered Jeremy his arm and a playful little smile. “Shall we?”

Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. It was both ridiculous, and maybe he was just a little giddy with how nervous the thought made him. “Sure,” he said anyway, looping his arm through Matt’s.

They swept inside, under the bright glow of the magnificent chandelier. It sent a glittering glow cascading across the room, lighting up the paintings and statues that lined the atrium. In the far corners, Jeremy spotted corridors that no doubt led to more art pieces. He considered it for a moment, making a few mental notes - Geoff would slaughter him if he came back completely empty handed because he was so busy staring at Matt instead - but then, eventually, his thoughts wandered right back to the man next to him.

Matt was already looking at him. 

There was something there, Jeremy thought, something unspoken. He didn’t know what it was or if it was even remotely close to what he hoped it would be, so he looked away and loudly asked Matt if he wanted to venture further into the gallery.

If Matt asked about the flush on his cheeks, Jeremy decided he’d tell him it was the alcohol and the warmth of the crowd.

Geoff never even asked for a report.

* * *

Jeremy’s head thumped down onto the table. “Why is this happening to me?” he groaned.

Across from him, Michael and Gavin shared a glance. The corners of Gavin’s lips twitched with suppressed amusement, but he didn’t laugh - not right now, anyway.

The thing was, Michael and Gavin knew _exactly_ what was going on, and they also knew why it was happening to Jeremy, specifically. They were, after all, part of the crew’s plan to try and finally set the two up, since they had never made any moves themselves despite being so damn obvious about it - obvious to everyone _but_ each other, apparently. 

The plan was simple: keep putting them alone together and see what happened.

So far, there were no results, but that didn’t mean that they were going to stop trying.

“Bad time to ask you to swap a job with me, then?” Gavin asked.

Jeremy thumped his head against the table again. Michael elbowed Gavin, then glared at him when he met his gaze. Gavin did not have the grace to look apologetic.

“Just ask him on a date,” Michael said, turning back to Jeremy. “Be blunt. Fuck it. Matt’s a decent guy, worst he’ll do is say no.”

Jeremy shifted his head to bury his face into his folded arms instead. “Yeah, but the asking’s the hard part,” he moaned, his voice muffled. “What if I’m just fucking this up?”

Michael bit his tongue; it was hard not to explain just how much Jeremy _wouldn’t_ be fucking it up. While Jeremy had admitted his feelings to Michael and Gavin, thanks to a conversation that had been lubricated with a few beers, there hadn’t actually been any verbal confirmation from Matt himself, but they would all have to be blind to miss the way Matt looked at Jeremy. Pushing them together too hard likely wouldn’t help, though - Jeremy or Matt had to be the one to make the first step. The crew couldn’t do it for them.

Not entirely, anyway. They could nudge them.

“Just… do it when it feels right, Jeremy,” Gavin said, reaching over to give his elbow an awkward little pat. “You know, when it’s just the two of you, ask him out to dinner or something, yeah?”

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged with a sigh. “Yeah,” he repeated, sounding miserable. “That’s easier said than done.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but his tone was kind when he spoke. “You’ll figure it out. Moping _definitely_ isn’t gonna help you out, though.”

Reluctantly, Jeremy propped himself upright again. He seemed to hold all of his weight on his forearms where they rested on the table, like sitting up was taking more effort than he could really give. “Yeah, I know. I know.”

There was silence for a beat. 

Then, unable to help himself, Gavin broke it.

“So about that job…”

* * *

Jeremy was going to throttle Gavin.

Somehow, this was worse than the art gallery ordeal. There, they were able to lose themselves in the crowd, and Jeremy had simply kept himself going with champagne and hors d’oeuvres, using them and their work as a distraction from the way Matt looked all dressed up.

Here, though. 

_Here,_ the infamous suit made a reappearance, because they were posing for a dinner date at an expensive restaurant, of all things. Jeremy wasn’t sure how it was anything to do with casing the joint or setting up a heist or anything of the sort, but he wasn’t in a position to argue right now, considering he was sitting at a table, opposite Matt, who looked equally flustered in the low light of the restaurant.

Jeremy was _so_ fucked.

He didn’t even know what the job was. He couldn’t remember what Geoff had said, other than the fact that he’d cover any expenses.

So, naturally, Jeremy had ordered a really nice steak in an effort to soothe himself, though it definitely wasn’t helping as much as he’d hoped. Every time he looked up from his meal, he just saw Matt, smiling a little sheepishly at him from across the table. It made Jeremy’s heart flip in his chest every time he caught his eyes.

It was almost tempting to say something.

Jeremy hesitated, his fork hovering between his plate and his mouth. 

He could say something.

He _should_ say something.

“Matt-”

“Jeremy-”

They both snapped their mouths shut at the same time, equally as flustered. Matt dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter, exchanging it for his napkin to fiddle with nervously.

“You go first,” Jeremy said.

“No, no, you,” Matt said, nodding towards him. As if to cement it, he picked up his glass of wine to take a sip, effectively silencing himself. He did it deliberately, raising his eyebrows at Jeremy in a sort of challenge, and it was enough to make Jeremy laugh.

Until he remembered what he was about to do, which sobered him up just a bit.

“So, uh…” Jeremy cleared his throat, and he set his cutlery down altogether. Suddenly, his steak didn’t seem so appealing. “Say this wasn’t a fake date job thing.” He cursed himself silently. He hadn’t even _thought_ about how he’d say it; he’d just been seized by the moment, and now he was stumbling his way through it. “I mean, after this, do you… do you wanna go see a movie or something?”

Matt paused, considering him over the rim of his wineglass. “What, like a real date?”

“Like a real date,” Jeremy confirmed. His foot tapped nervously under the tablecloth, and he was pretty sure his fingers were creasing his nice trousers from how hard he was twisting the loose fabric. 

Miraculously, a smile broke out across Matt’s face. “We can do a real date,” he said, and Jeremy’s chest lit up with fireworks, his emotions exploding into colour behind his ribs as his heart pounded against them. “Just let me go home first to change out of this.”

“You look good, though,” Jeremy blurted out. “It’s, uh, it’s a _really_ good look on you.”

Matt’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink in the flickering glow of the candle. “I feel awkward,” he protested. _“You’re_ the one who looks good.”

It was Jeremy’s turn to blush. He ducked his head a little in an attempt to cover it, but the gentle brush of Matt’s fingers against the back of his hand drew his attention up again. Matt was smiling at him, a little shy and hesitant but warm, and Jeremy felt that joy bubble up in his chest again, surging up into a second round of shimmering sparks.

He turned his hand over to tangle his fingers with Matt’s. They forgot about their dinner until it went cold, instead preferring to quietly talk between themselves to feel out this newfound thing between them.

* * *

“Well, boys, I’d say that’s a job well done.”

Across the restaurant, hidden behind a divider and a potted plant, the rest of the crew had a table. Geoff raised a wineglass filled with bubbling coke, and the others clinked their own against it with a chorus of grins and pleased laughs. They settled back in their seats, sipping their drinks and tucking into their own dinners.

“I’m glad it finally worked,” Jack said, peering at them through the leaves again. “Took ‘em long enough. I don’t think I could’ve come up with more fake jobs.”

“Me neither,” Gavin agreed. “I could barely think of something to get Jeremy on this one.”

“You didn’t try very hard,” Michael muttered around his mouthful. He laughed when Gavin kicked him, and he knocked his foot back in return.

“Well, at least it’s done now,” Ryan sighed, satisfied. He had already made a dent in his dinner, and now he was leaning back and taking things more slowly, idly swirling his spaghetti on his plate as they talked. “Now we’ve just gotta keep ‘em focused on work.”

There was a pause as it sunk in, and then Geoff groaned. “Fuck, I didn’t think about that. Whose stupid idea was this in the first place?”

“Yours,” Jack said, helpfully, as Geoff buried his head in his hands.

* * *

Neither Matt nor Jeremy spotted them. They didn’t know the crew had been there until they announced their relationship, and realised that none of them were suitably surprised.

Or maybe they really had just been that obvious all along.


End file.
